


I Click My Heels, and I'm There

by ken_ichijouji (dommific)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Voyeurism, Background Relationships, Cockblocking, Comedy, Flirting, Other, POV Male Character, Present Tense, Written pre-star trek beyond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 12:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6985438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dommific/pseuds/ken_ichijouji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times Hikaru Sulu had to deal with Some Bullshit, and the one time things really went his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Click My Heels, and I'm There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Friedcheesemogu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friedcheesemogu/gifts), [withthepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/gifts).



> I'm sorry, I just can't stop laughing at this.
> 
> Grave of the Fireflies is the saddest film ever made, wiki the plot if you don't believe me. Hence why my friends and I refer to the plot relevant candy as "the Sad Candy." I've known history teachers who watched it for their World War II units who were like "no. No fuck this. No this is not going to be shown in my classroom, how dare you."
> 
> The song Hikaru sings is "Why Can't We Be Friends?" by War. If you've watched Dazed and Confused, you've heard it. It's during the part where Parker Posey hazes the incoming freshmen girls.
> 
> The thing about Hikaru and M'Ress comes from some of the TOS era books. She had the hots for him according to them.
> 
> The background pairings in this are McKirk and Scokov. I regret nothing, she says as she flings herself off a mountain.
> 
> And yeah I based the aliens in the last bit off DC Comics' Starfire's race. I think Kory would probably dig Hikaru. He's got some stuff in common with Dick. Imagine the Priestess is like the betrothed bride in Coming to America. "Sheeee's yourrrrr QUEEN TOOOOO BEEEEE"
> 
> This is for friedcheesemogu especially, but withthepilot too because Sulu is their Head Boy.
> 
> Title taken from Ben Folds Five's "Underground."

_It was well-meaning_

Hikaru moves into his Starfleet dorm after much deliberation with his parents. Mom suggests he commute, but he’s eighteen and should learn to live on his own, he feels.

He goes home for Sunday dinner with O-ma and Popo as well as to do his laundry for free every week. He cherishes his time with his family while he can, since once he graduates and goes into space, there won’t be much of it.

He’s just come home from dinner when a girl down the hall passes by him. “Hey Hikaru,” she says.

He hasn’t gotten her name yet---it’s only the second week of classes and the Academy is rather large. He knows her eyes are a pretty shade of violet, and there are cute matching spots all over her body. “Hey.”

Hikaru’s roommate is inside working on a paper. He glances up, then goes back to work. “Hey man,” Jean says. “Got you something.”

“Oh yeah?” Hikaru perks up as he puts away his clothes. There are freshers in their room, but he prefers actual laundry. “What?”

Something is tossed at him, and he barely catches it. It’s a big red box with a picture of thin chocolate-covered cookie sticks on the front. Hikaru stares at it. “That’s your favorite right?” Jean says. “I went exploring, and I saw a huge display of it. Figured you’d like it.”

Hikaru’s left eyebrow twitches. “Pocky’s okay.”

Jean frowns. “It was all over Japantown so I thought---”

Hikaru pinches his nose. Now it makes sense. “Okay. Um.” He thinks for a second. Maybe instead of Interspecies Protocol the Academy needs to teach a semester in How Not to Be a Dick. “Yes, my father is Japanese-American. But I grew up here, dude, my house is fifteen minutes on the MUNI. If you want to get me a snack, replicate me some _lengua_.”

Jean blanches. “ _Merde_. That was rude of me, I’m sorry---”

“It’s fine it’s just like...if I only ever gave you brie or escargot.” Hikaru opens the Pocky, pulling out a piece and munching on it. “Besides, Japan has _way_ better snacks. Look up how they do Kit Kats. Or you know, Botan Rice Candy is actually my favorite. The Sad Candy from _Grave of the Fireflies_ is really delicious, but it also kind of tastes like tears. Jesus, that movie.”

Jean looks less upset, but he’s a bit confused. “Right, well, I won’t do that again. Thanks for being so cool about it.”

“Eh,” Hikaru says. “It happens.”

They split the Pocky, and Jean is curious so they watch _Grave of the Fireflies._ Then he cusses Hikaru out while crying.

Hikaru hands him the Kleenex. He’s earned the cussing.

 

_Enterprising young man_

It’s kind of really amazing, Hikaru thinks as he flies a shuttle up to the _Enterprise_. Vulcan has sent out a distress call, so the ships docked above Earth--- including the supremely brand new flagship--- are heading out to offer aid. Hikaru gets on board and checks where he’s supposed to go. Then he double-takes.

McKenna, who he knows, is ill and can’t report for duty. He’s staying on Earth for treatment. Hikaru, who is his backup, is to report to the Bridge.

He’s the pilot for this mission.

He’s torn between throwing up in his mouth and dancing like he’s at the club with his boys. There’s not enough _holy shits_ in the galaxy. He walks, knees almost giving out, to the bridge. He sits in the pilot’s chair. He familiarizes himself with the controls.

Pavel Chekov takes the seat next to him, and thank God there’s a familiar face at least.

Captain Pike joins the bridge and sits in his chair after giving a speech. He orders Hikaru to take off.

He does, except he doesn’t.

His hands start to tremble. Something’s wrong.

“Lieutenant, where is Helmsman McKenna?” Pike asks, and it’s a bit unkind. 

His hands shake more. Everyone stares.

“He has lungworm, sir; he couldn’t report to his post,” Hikaru answers. He turns to face him. “I’m Hikaru Sulu.”

“And you _are_ a pilot, right?” Pike continues.

Hikaru has to laugh, it’s so absurd. “Very much so, sir. I’m not sure what’s wrong---”

“Is the parking brake on?” Pike asks with a sardonic smile.

“Uh, no,” Hikaru answers. What kind of moron does he think he is? “I’ll figure it out, I---”

“Have you disengaged the external inertial dampener?” asks the First Officer.

Hikaru wants to break his chiseled Vulcan jaw. Because he’s right.

He pushes the buttons. His frown is the deep one his Mom says will put off anyone marrying him, because apparently that’s a big concern when he hasn't even graduated yet. “Ready for warp, sir.”

“Punch it.”

Hikaru does. That mistake gets forgotten, not only by him but by everyone once they get to Vulcan and see what the fuck is happening there.

 

_Some people can’t take hints_

The situation that enabled Hikaru to graduate after only three years was complete and utter rancid horseshit, but nevertheless he’s pleased to be the pilot and Third Officer on the Federation flagship at 21. 

He shares a room with Pavel. Hikaru and Pavel interacted a lot at the Academy since they specialized in the same thing, more or less. They did a lot of sims together, so they already know they work well as a pair. It makes sense that Pavel and him share a room, it really does.

Hikaru is in one of the Rec Rooms during his downtime, and Uhura’s relief, a gorgeous Caitian named M’Ress sits next to him. Hikaru can’t help but check her out, as he can’t help it whenever she sets foot --- er, paw--- onto the Bridge. She has ginger colored fur with big yellow eyes and long matching hair, her tail is very cute, and Hikaru notices something else about her.

"You’re not wearing shoes,” he points out in a light, teasing tone.

M’Ress flexes the pads on her feet, the tips of her claws making themselves known. She turns up one hand, showing him what the Internet once called her beans. “I don’t like them. Never bother unless I absolutely must.”

“That’s fair,” he replies. “I probably wouldn’t either.”

M’Ress smiles, Hikaru seeing her incisors. Instead of being scary, he finds them rather appealing. Her voice is what really does him in, though...she trills and purrs in a way a Terran can’t, and he kind of wants to know if that’s all the time.

Like say, when they’re horizontal.

He’s about to really turn up the charm when Pavel plops down across from them. “Hello!” he chirps in his thick accent.

M’Ress raises an eyebrow with a smile. Hikaru is less gracious. “Uh...hi Pavel.”

Pavel beams. “It is nice to be off work, yes?”

Hikaru struggles, because he likes Pavel and lives with him, but he has a different goal for tonight. “Well yeah, M’Ress and I were---”

Pavel brought a tray of burgers. He passes one to each of them. M’Ress perks up a bit, taking the bun off hers. She eats it with precision while also being delicate.

Hikaru is less enthused.

“I was thinking,” Pavel says between bites. As spritely as he can be, he has proper manners and sticks to them. “That it would be fun if we all played a game.”

Hikaru sighs. Now he’ll never be able to get M’Ress alone.

“What game?” M’Ress asks. She gives Hikaru a pointed glance, as if asking his permission.

Hikaru realizes there’s no way out without hurting his roommate. M’Ress seems to not mind, and he can always call her another time. He sighs, forces a grin. “Yeah Pavel, what game?”

 

_The worst timing in the history of the world_

It’s not the first time he’s been on an away team with the Captain and the CMO, but it is the most memorable.

The natives are hostile, because when are they not? Like the constant soundtrack in Hikaru’s brain is this hella old song from the 1970s. So much so that as he, Kirk, and McCoy run from the possibility of murder, he starts singing it.

“Why can’t we be friends? Why can’t we be friends? Why can’t we be friends? Why can’t weeee beeee friennnndssss?” Hikaru sings as he dodges musketballs. “The color of your skin don’t matter to me, as long as we can live in haaaaarmonnnyyyyyyyy---”

“In here!” Kirk shouts. There’s a dark cave obscured by a waterfall. The three of them run into it, getting absolutely soaked in the process. They go as far to the back as possible, hopefully obscured by darkness. Also hopefully, nothing large and carnivorous and/or venomous lives back here. The natives run by, one of them lingering before shouting. They continue their chase, unaware they’ve been had. “Christ on sale,” Kirk says. “Let’s beam the fuck back.”

“Seconded,” McCoy agrees.

“Thirded. Motion carries.” Hikaru shakes the water out of his hair.

Kirk opens the comm. “Kirk to _Enterprise_.”

_Enterprise, this is Commander Spock._

“Can you beam us back? As usual, everything went sideways,” Kirk explains.

Scotty takes over. _I’m afraid we can’t do that, Captain._

“The cave, right,” Kirk sighs. “We can’t leave, they’re still hunting us down.”

 _No, actually, though that does complicate things,_ Scotty clarifies. _There’s an ion storm between us and you all. If we even so much as think about it, we’ll kill you trying. You’re just going to have to wait it out._

“Oh for shit’s sake,” McCoy grouses.

“So how long until we can be extracted?” Kirk says into the comm while giving McCoy a sympathetic look. Hikaru’s never seen Kirk look at another person like that---he tends to be more the _suck it up, buttercup_ type. It’s a bit fascinating, but then he remembers the Doc has some special privileges with the Captain other people don’t.

 _Probably until dawn,_ Scotty answers. _At least that’s what Spock’s team says._

 _Mister Scott is correct,_ Spock says as he rejoins the convo. _With these conditions, it is far too much of a gamble to use the transporters. We estimate the ion storm will be complete as of nine AM ship’s time._

Kirk sighs. “Mkay. We’ll sit tight...we brought kits with us, so we have rations and stuff. Call us when it’s time, we’ll find someplace safe to beam back. Kirk out.”

He closes his comm and looks at McCoy for a while, then looks at Hikaru. McCoy huffs, a heavily annoyed sound that’s impressive since all it entails is breathing. He pulls off his soaked medical tunic. His black undershirt clings to his pecs, and Hikaru is a bit baffled that a doctor is so built.

It doesn’t escape Hikaru’s notice that Kirk is ogling him.

McCoy strips off the undershirt next, and drops both to the ground. He then grabs his bag, puts some rocks in a circle, and starts a fire using the Starfleet Survival Kit. He lays his shirts flat on the ground near the fire, takes off his boots to dump out the water, wrings out his socks, and grumbles obscenities with every breath.

Kirk sits down next to him, dumping the water out of his boots as well. He also takes off his shirts to dry them, and Hikaru says to hell with it and follows suit. It’s better than catching a cold or worse. They sit by the fire warming themselves, and McCoy makes a low grumble in his throat. Kirk nudges him with a grin. McCoy gives him a look in return, but instead of being put off, Kirk’s grin brightens. They gaze at each other for a while, and for some reason, it makes Hikaru feel uncomfortable.

“We should switch off with watches,” Kirk says. “Sulu, do you mind taking first watch? Bones and I need to talk.”

About what? “...Sure,” Hikaru says with a wary look. He walks towards the front of the cave, katana folded up in his hand and phaser holstered on his thigh. He stands in a way he won’t be readily visible on the other side of the waterfall. 

McCoy and Kirk are far back, but he can still hear them. There’s some kind of shifting back there, and then he hears McCoy’s soft, “Jim, not here.”

It sounds like...oh shit. It sounds like they’re making out.

“We can be quiet,” Kirk replies _sotto voce_. “I’m good at being quiet. Shared a room with Sam growing up.”

There’s more kissing sounds, and Hikaru grimaces, his entire face contorting with annoyance and disgust.

Fucking really? _Really?_

He hears a zipper, and he wants to drown himself. Or decapitate them like Judith did Holofernes. He’ll even selfie with their severed heads. It’d be worth the court martial.

Kirk pants and whines, McCoy saying things quietly enough Hikaru can’t tell what the individual words are.

He hopes they roll into the fire and burn themselves to death. 

 

_An unfortunate habit_

It’s the third Goddamn time in three missions.

It’s the third Goddamn time in three missions, and Hikaru wants to make a mandate that he’s never allowed off the ship again.

He’s tied to a fucking stake, Pavel at his back, and the people of this planet are lighting torches. They’re to be ritualistically barbecued, as far as they can tell, with the people eating them to gain their knowledge and power. 

“Why on Earth,” Hikaru begins, “does this happen? Like what, did some asshole put a curse on us saying ‘fuck these two Goldshirts in particular’?”

“Seems that way,” Pavel answers with a sigh.

The universal translator is on the fritz, which is likely how this shit sandwich started. The people chant, and Hikaru has read _The Crucible_ which means he’s intimately familiar with the phrase _burn the witches_. Starfleet needs to do better in regards to the _are they or are they not primitive cultures_ questionnaire.

In the distance, he sees the glitter that is transporter lights, and there are Kirk, Spock, Uhura, and Scotty. Hikaru wonders who has the Conn as the four of them beat the hell out of the people, Uhura giving a particularly impressive roundhouse to some dude in the face.

Scotty frees them. “All right then, lads? Pavel?”

“Thanks, Scotty,” Hikaru says as he dives into the fighting because this society can fuck itself. A lot of skulls get cracked, and then he glances up and sees Scotty dip Pavel and kiss him like a Harlequin romance novel cover. 

He ain’t even mad.

 

_A shining beacon_

It’s a team made up of Kirk, himself, Spock, and Uhura. Hikaru has already armed his phaser.

So have they.

They beam down in the center of a city. The people gasp, staring at them. There are horse drawn carriages, and Hikaru gets ready to beat people up yet again to ensure their escape.

Except this time something’s different.

The people of this town go quiet. Then one points at Hikaru. They all start pointing, chattering excitedly among themselves. Several people grab him, hoisting him onto their shoulders. 

“Fuck the what?” Hikaru asks.

“No idea,” Uhura replies.

His comrades are ignored as he gets carried, everyone bowing in his wake. Children exclaim with joy, women cry while smiling...it’s both unnerving and nice at the same time. He’s ushered into a gold and marble palace, where he is stripped of his clothing and then put into a hot spring. There, he is bathed by a gaggle of attractive men and women. “What?” he asks again.

The bathers smile and continue their work.

Once that is done, he is coated in perfumes smelling of night-blooming jasmine and wine, flowers are put in his hair, and robes of spun gold are draped over his body. Then he is sat on velvet cushions in a chamber as people bow to him. “I have no idea, but I like it,” he says. The people utter joyous words.

The others have been brought before him, and Uhura and Spock bow like everyone else. Kirk is slower to do it, but when he sees the dirty looks from the locals, he complies.

Uhura chances raising her head. “You are their Anointed One, long prophesied to come to their world and bring about peace.”

“Oh sure,” Hikaru says. Then his brain catches up to his mouth. “Wait what?”

The locals have orange skin, hair that looks like fire, and solid green eyes. The shortest adult is also like 6’4”. A particularly nubile woman in white robes and gold jewelry with red gems drapes herself at his feet. She’s got curves for days and one of the sweetest smiles Hikaru’s ever seen. She says something in their language that Hikaru can’t register because they took his universal translator when they bathed him.

“She is your priestess,” Uhura explains. “And she is to see to your every need.”

“Okay,” Hikaru says. “Can I get a grilled cheese sandwich? I mean I shouldn’t, I’m lactose intolerant, but it’s a habit I can’t kick.”

Spock clears his throat. “Not...that kind of need.”

It takes him a minute. “What like...like a sex priestess?”

Spock winces. Kirk sighs. “If you absolutely must put it that way,” Uhura answers with a slight glower that causes him to shrink back. “Yes. She has been training her whole life to be your…” The words are a struggle. “Sex priestess.”

“So wait…” Hikaru says. “I’m their answer to God, and I get my own concubine? Like there’s no strings here? I won’t get gutted for a good harvest? I won’t get beheaded for rain?”

“No strings,” Kirk says. “Though I question this society’s taste. _I’m_ here.”

Everyone ignores him, except for the first part. Hikaru looks down at his priestess. She gives him a bright grin, and he grins back. 

Everything is _awesome_.


End file.
